Second Thoughts, Second Chances
by ErikMySweet
Summary: Christine resides with her soontobe husband, Raoul, Vicomte de Changy. But she is tormented by the ghost of a loved one. When she returns to the opera, she learns the ghost has dissapeared... EC eventually.Rated teen.
1. Chapter 1: Alone

**Chapter One: Alone**

The once strong, powerful, Phantom of the Opera lay in the secret corridor, sobbing. She was gone. "_Christine._", He choked. But what could he expect of her? Harming her, threatening her-and her fiancé? She had found a way past the point of no return. He was not an angel, nor a phantom, nor a man… just a monster; a_ pitiful creature of darkness_. That is what she had called him.

The strange angel looked back on his experiences with her. Pure bliss, pure love, pure music. Yet she was gone, retreating to the one thing that had never harmed her, the Viscount. _I've lost her; _he thought to himself_, nothing can bring her back now_.

Regaining his dignity the best he could, he stood, disappearing into the infinite darkness. That was what he was reduced to, a mourning shadow of the opera house


	2. Chapter 2: One Last Look

**Chapter Two: One Last Look **

Christine glanced back at him for one last time. No more sweet music, no more lessons, no more darkness, no more _him_.

She was with the man she loved now, as he sang his last line "Christine, that's all I ask of you." She rested her head on his chest- not daring to look up at him- she didn't want Raoul to see her tear-stained face. She could have sworn that as she and Raoul sang their sweet duet, she heard the continuous breaking of glass.

She couldn't help but wonder what would become of him. She and his music were the Phantom's only passions. Now all he had was his music, but was that enough?


	3. Chapter 3: Raoul's Fears Come True

**Chapter 3: Raoul's Fears Become Realities**

Christine had gone back to her angel. Oh, great joy to the Opera Ghost! Raoul, pleading for his love to return, found himself alone in their house, _his _house.

The Vicomte awoke in a cold sweat after a horrible nightmare. He recalled Christine leaving him for her "Angel", as she had called him. But it was nothing but a dream. Just to be sure, he checked and saw that Christine was sleeping soundly next to him. Relieved, he drifted back to sleep…

Christine couldn't stop thinking about her Angel all throughout breakfast. Raoul noticed her queer behavior, "What is wrong, my sweet Christine?" He knew very well what was wrong. Only three weeks after their escape from the opera's catacombs, he expected her to still be a bit shook up, but he really wished she would stop crying. Every once in a while she would randomly burst into tears. Raoul tried his best to pretend he did not notice (for he knew Christine tried to conceal her emotions from him), but it pained his heart to see her upset. Often he offered to take her out for a walk in the park, but she almost always replied simply

"I am sorry my dear, but I am not feeling well today." Soon Christine stopped eating, and Raoul grew worried.

He could no longer fight it, without thinking he blurted out, "You still love him, don't you?" Christine looked shocked at his question, her eyes began to water.

Between sobs, Raoul managed to hear her say, "Its….like….he's….still….right….here…." He couldn't believe what he was hearing, yet he had expected it all along.

"My dearest Christine", he said as calmly as he could manage, "You know you have escaped from his torture. Do not worry; I am here. I will protect you from ever being hurt again!"

Christine's face now cascaded with tears. "Oh Raoul! You cannot save me from what already lies inside my soul." Her face swollen, her eyes red, she looked up at him. The Vicomte's heart was torn in half when he saw her in such a state.

"You still love him…" he felt a lump in his throat as he forced out the words he could no longer keep inside him, "but then what are your feelings for me?"

"Raoul you know I love you, I have never stopped loving you, I never will stop." _Liar…_ replied a voice in her head…_but I do love him, don't I?_ replied another voice. _You love your Angel, you never stopped loving Him, you never will stop_. Oh, how her mind had turned on her! She wanted to love Raoul, she wanted to forget the Phantom, but the thought just seemed to be rearranged, no matter how hard she tried. Then a voice, but this time not from inside her mind, not from Raoul's lips, called out to her,

"_Christine…Christine my Angel…I can no longer stand to watch you pain…stay with who your true feelings are…whoever it is._"

Her angel, though not the one she had expected. That was not the Phantom's voice…That voice belonged to her father. Christine thought she was going to faint, but instead she just collapsed to the floor.

"CHRISTINE!" Raoul ran to fetch a cool cloth, and returned within seconds to place it on her head…she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4: Only One Place To Go

**Chapter Four: Only One Place to Go **

After her ghostly experience, Christine had hurried out of her and Raoul's mansion and headed for the only place she felt she belonged: The Opera Populair. As she pulled up to the Opera House in a carriage, everything seemed exactly as she remembered from 3 weeks ago, except for one thing. It seemed that a dark cloud hung permanently over the beautiful building. There was no excitement as there once had been. Surely her leaving could not have done this? Was this some trick of her beloved Ghost's?

When she stepped inside, Christine recognized many familiar faces, some not as friendly as the others. There in the front room stood Meg Giry and her mother, Firmin, Andre, and Carlotta. Meg was the first to notice her. She ran up to her, beaming.

"Oh Christine, Where have you been? The Opera is not the same without you!" She surrounded Christine with a strong hug, nearly disabling the young soprano's ability to breath.

"It's good to see you too, Meg." Christine said, smiling down at her. Meg had always been rather short.

Of course after such an unexpected event, the others occupying the grand room had turned around to see what had gotten Meg so excited. Madame Giry smiled at her. "It is good to see you, child." She gave Christine a hug as Firmin and Andre approached her.

"Ah, Miss Daae, you have returned? We assure you that your presence at our theater will be appreciated, and-" Firmin said, lightly kissing her hand.

"-and that you may once again become our Prima Dona" Andre finished, jealously pushing his business partner aside to touch his lips to her long, beautiful fingers.

Then, just when Christine thought that her stay at the Opera House would be nothing but perfect, Carlotta interrupted. "So, Christine Daae, you have returned to take away my title? Your attempt last month was nice, but let us remembers that it was a failed attempt." She said, glaring first at Christine, then at her managers for even thinking of replacing her with a young foolish girl. "As for me, I am off to prepare for my lead in our newest opera, 'Hannibal, Numero Dos'…Hasta la Vista!" Carlotta seemed to be using as much Spanish in her words as she could, as if Christine would not understand the basic words of her native language. Christine noticed this and said sarcastically, "Hasta Manana, Carlotta!" Oh, how she loved to win a fight with Carlotta.

After her mind was no longer occupied with such unimportant thoughts, she remembered her reason of visitation. She whispered quietly to Madame Giry, "Where is he?" The smile faded from the ballet mistress's face. Christine's heart sank.

"I do not know my dear. No one knows. He does not ask for his salary, he no longer haunts us, he seems to have disappeared completely." _No salary? How is he to survive? _Christine thought to herself.

"Take me to my mirror please, Madame." Christine said with a hint of sadness and worry in her voice. Madame Giry nodded, "Follow me, child." Meg made an attempt to follow, but Madame Giry sent her off to her room with one look.


	5. Chapter 5: The Mirror

**Chapter 5: The Mirror**

"_Flattering child you shall know me, see why in shadow I hide…Look at you face in the mirror, I am there inside!"_

His words still haunted her mind; never to be forgotten. She longed once more to hear him repeat those words in his dark, but sweet voice. Oh, longing for one last touch, one last lullaby; one last visit. She found herself pressing her fingers against the glass of her long-forgotten mirror, almost expecting his hand to grasp hers and take her away from her misery.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to you darkest dreams, purge all thoughts of the life you knew before!" _

That was all she wanted to do right now…No, she mustn't think in such ways. It would only cause her more heartbreak, should she never see her Angel again. Why must he always sing songs in her head, long after her final depart?

"Christine? Christine? Can you hear me?" Madame Giry's was full of worry; and as dazed as she was, Christine could hear it. She had obviously been calling her for some time now.

"I'm fine Madame, thank you for your assistance" Christine spoke in an odd monotone, as though her body was speaking, but her soul was somewhere else. Madame Giry took this as her cue to leave.

As soon as she was sure of the ballet mistress to be well out of hearing, Christine broke down on the floor, her face cascading with tears. "Angel!" she sobbed, "I was wrong to leave you! Come back to me; my teacher, my angel, my…" Christine stopped, almost unsure of what had crossed through her mind, but it spat out of her lips before that little voice in her head could say otherwise. "My love!"

He heard every word, not knowing what to think. Since when had she cared for him, the monster? Surely she had not just called him...'her love'? Was she not happily engaged-perhaps married- to her beloved Viscount? It had been so hard for him to free her, in fact it had taken all of his mental capability to give up the one thing he would die for;_ her. _

Now she was back. He wanted nothing more than to walk-run-right up to her. He longed to hold her, to whisper her name softy into her ear once more. He did not dare. The shadow was sure he would only get his heart broken once more. He felt a gentle tear fall from his right eye. It seemed he often only cried from his right eye, his deformed eye. His mask not only hid his disfigurement, but his emotions. Christine could see through the mask though. She could dig deeper into his soul than even he himself could. She always seemed to know his true feelings with a single glance.

He couldn't let himself give in to her, yet he could not bare to watch her cry. Knowing he must do something, he returned to his lair and pulled a black ribbon from a box... Those two words ringing in his head all the way to the flower stand;_ "My Love..."_


	6. Chapter 6: Why are you Here?

**Chapter 6: Why are you here?**

Christine lay awake twirling the black satin ribbon in her fingers. The rose-_his_ rose- lay on her nightstand. _So he is here… _she thought to herself.

"_Angel of music, I denied you, turning from true beauty!" _She remembered that song so clearly in her head… Why had Raoul stopped her in the graveyard; stopped her from entering her angel's passionate embrace and never being let go of? She too had stopped herself, though. She had turned away from the warm gentle light glowing on her to look at Raoul. Now she turned from Raoul to look at- what was she looking at? Her angel was there, he must be. How else would his rose end up in her dressing room? She wanted to turn from Raoul to look at her Angel of Music, but she didn't know which way to face.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Raoul sat there, feeling like a fool for ever believing Christine could love him more than her cherished Phantom of the Opera. But then, when he 'came back to his senses' he realized Christine _couldn't_ have chosen a monster over him. _That evil thing must have taken my betrothed away! He has taken her deep down into the slimy catacombs in which he resides. My poor Christine_, he thought. She didn't deserve to live like that down there with that filthy beast of a man!

Thousands of ideas flashed through Raoul's mind at that moment. Every thought, different in one way or another, agreed on this: the dragon must be slayed, and the princess, freed.

He hurried down the marble steps of the de Changy estate to the Opera Populaire, where he planned on risking his life once more for the one he loved.

_You just wait Christine_, he thought to himself with a smirk on his face_, the demon will perish, and we will be reunited! _

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

He stood in front of the mirror, watching her every move "Angel? My Angel, can you hear me?" He heard her say. He was compelled to sing and comfort her, but he gave himself a mental kick for even thinking of it. _I am to give her a rose, and nothing more. _He had told himself. But now this seemed almost impossible to do. She was calling out to him, pleading for him to come back to her.

Before he could reason out his possible actions and their outcomes, he whispered "Hush my angel, I am here. You know very much why I am here, but my question for you: why are you here?"


	7. Chapter 7: A Long forgotten friend

**Chapter 7: A Long Forgotten Friend **

She stopped. Why _was_ she here? Certainly not to cause anyone more pain, but it seemed almost impossible to heal a wound without opening it once more. "Angel, I do not know why I am here. The only thing I am sure of is that I must be here. I don't know if I am to end up with you, alone, or with Ra-" she stopped, knowing it was a bad idea to mention him in front of her _other_ love. "-him." She finished. "All I know is that I had to return."

"Oh, well, _please forgive me_ for asking" He snapped sarcastically, "I _never_ knew you had feelings for the _both_ of us." Now he changed his tone from sarcastic to abnormally serious. "You and I both know I gave you up because I thought there was something better for you, now it seems you are just here to make my life miserable. Oh, yes! 'Let's make great fun of poor, unhappy Erik! I just love to watch him cry!' How dare you come back to me?"

"No, Ang-Erik, it's not like that! I love you, but I'm torn between two worlds: the one I should be living in, and the one I want to be…"

"You made your choice a long time ago, now go live it out!"

"No! Please!"

"YES"

"

NO! ERIK I WILL NOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU!" she screamed through tears. "I will not let go of you again! I can no longer bear the pain of not having you with me."

Now she was pleading as she serenaded him with the best possible singing voice she could manage. _Say you'll want me with you here, beside you. Lead me save me from my solitude…Angel, that's all I ask of- _

"NO! GO NOW! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME! FOREVER!" He hollered, forcing back tears.

"Are you happy now? I'm leaving! You can be back to your oh-so-happy self living in solitude!"

"YES! I'M JUST GIDDY! NOW GO!"

Christine ran out of the room, tears streaming down her face. She wanted to go to Meg and Madame Giry, but they resided in the Opera House, and more than anything, she needed to get out of there as soon as possible. She continued to run….all the way to the cemetery, where the Daae family plot awated her visit.


	8. Chapter 8: Not a Happy Ending

**Chapter Eight: Not a Happy Ending... **

**_I don't own POTO or its characters _**

She retraced her steps from over 4 months ago, singing that beautiful mourning song she knew all too well.

_You were once my one companion,_

_You were all that mattered,_

_You were once a friend and father,_

_Then my world was shattered, _

_Wishing you were somehow here again,_

_Wishing you were somehow near,_

_Sometimes it seemed,_

_If I just dreamed,_

_Somehow you would be here,_

_Wishing I could hear your voice again,_

_Knowing that I never would, _

_Dreaming of you,_

_Won't help me to do,_

_All that you dreamed I could, _

"Oh, I don't even know who I'm singing to anymore." She cried. "Who is it? Angel or Father? Friend or Phantom?" No comforting light came from the grave of her father this time. "Have you all left me?" she sobbed. _I was wrong. I must go back to him. _She hurried out of the graveyard, hoping-no, praying-that he would understand.

……………………………………………………………………….

"Raoul! Are you here? Please understand! I was wrong to leave you! I love you!" she pleaded. She felt a cold hand on her shoulder.

"What do you want?" He asked coldly.

"Raoul I-"

"SHUT UP!" He slapped her across the face, stinging Christine partially with the hurt of her now red cheek, combined with that of Raoul's evil manner. "How dare you leave me? Ah, well, I suppose I should forgive you now." He said sarcastically, "It's not like _you _did any harm to _me_!"

"I think I should go now…" Christine squeaked, trembling in fear of being hurt again by this man who she had once thought to be so loving and gentle.

Raoul seemed to automatically change his tone when he heard that Christine wanted to leave; but something still didn't seem right.

"Now Christine, baby, you don't want to leave…you'll end up in the arms of that monster again!"

"Raoul I assure you tha-"

"Come, now, Christine, we haven't any time to waste!"

_He's lost his mind. _She thought to herself as Raoul grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into their carriage. _Why in the world are we going to the opera house?_ She thought as the horse continued on the path she knew all too well. _No, no…he wouldn't….would he?_ She finally gained the courage to speak up.

"Raoul, why are we here? Shouldn't we be back at the estate…?" Raoul smiled a strange, almost psychotic smile.

"I've got some unfinished business with this monster. Now, be a good girl and wait here Christine." He stepped out of the carriage and Christine noticed something silver in his coat pocket: a pistol.

"NO! NO! PLEASE NO! RAOUL! DON'T-" she stopped screaming to hear what Raoul was telling the driver.

He did not want her to be allowed in to the opera house until he returned. _No, God…please…no…..I never wanted this to happen! _As time past while she was locked in the carriage she did nothing but cry and pray. Then the man guarding her carriage turned to pick up his bottle of whiskey, and when he went to look back up, the door was open and the girl was gone.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Erik fumed as he ran about his lair, breaking random objects in his path. When at last his rage calmed to despair he fell to the floor, this time, not even his mask could hide his own emotions. Tears cascaded from both of his eyes as he looked over to one of his few remaining drawings of Christine. Her eyes looked upon him with pity, but he knew if he was looking at the real her, her face would be distorted with rage. "Why? Why must this always happen? I get what I want and I lose it…over and over!" _Why must God punish me for every sin?_

Then, he heard footsteps. The shadow collected himself the best he could and hid behind his throne, waiting for the fly that was unknowingly falling into the spider's web. He clutched the Punjab in his hand, ready. In stepped a man, looking rather shook up and _rather drunk_ Erik thought as he moved closer to his prey. Suddenly he threw a noose over the poor unsuspecting fool's neck.

"You filthy demon! Let us go!" He screamed; whoever he was.

"Misseur, I assure you that you are the only one who is trapped, therefore the only one who could be let go of. Now," He spoke calmly "Who is it that consists of this 'we' that you are speaking of?" He purposely tightened the rope, making it harder for his victim to spit out the words.

"Miss…Daa-nnnnnngh" That was all he could manage

"Ah, I see! You are here for a Mademoiselle Daae? Is that what you are trying to say you imbecile?" He continued on with his mocking, while tightening his grip on the rope, "Well, I am sorry to say that she is not here-well sorry for you that is- I personally wouldn't want the little rat anywhere near me." It hurt Erik to have to say such hurtful words about the one he loved, but he must keep his dignity in front of this ignorant fool.

"No….you…must…stop…haunting…us-ngggggggghhh….leave her…..alone! She's with…me!" Erik nearly felt like crying again in front of this man, this man who he didn't even know. Who was it that Christine had left him for?

"Now, let's see who it is that has so foolishly fallen into the hands of a- a _demon_. Is that what you say I am?" He walked nonchalantly towards the man, who was obviously trying to hide the fact that he was trembling from fear. He jerked the man around, as to get a good look into his eyes. What Erik saw shocked him.

"What are you doing here, Vicomte? Should you not be so happily married to your beloved Christine?" Raoul glared at him with such fierceness that it almost made Erik take a step back. "Be careful, Changy-Boy, You are in my home, and in my lasso. You wouldn't want my hand to accidentally slip; causing your air flow to be completely cut off, now would you?"

"You….wouldn't…….. Dare!" Now he had finally managed to say something.

"And why is that, my little foppish friend?"

"You wouldn't….be….a-a-able……to take….the guilt."

"I assure you I have killed before, and sins don't bother me to much"

"The guilt….of hurting….C-c-c-Christine."

Erik thought of this for a while. No doubt, he wanted to kill the fop, but this man meant too much to her (why? He had no idea). No matter how much Erik wanted to despise Christine, she always had a place in his heart.

"Go." Erik began to loosen the rope when he heard more footsteps. _Merde_, he cursed.

Christine entered the 'room'; looking as shook up as the day she had last seen him.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''


	9. Chapter 9: Finally!

**Chapter 9: FINALLY! **

**a/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it … you'll understand the title of the chapter later ;)**

As soon as Erik let his victim go, the figure of Christine appeared out of the darkness. _Oh, god, what now?_ He thought to himself.

"YOU ANIMAL!" she screamed. Erik was ashamed of his behaviors after what she had said. Even though he had just been about to free the vicomte, when Christine spoke such hurtful words, it made him just want to curl up and die_. I must explain myself, for I doubt the selfish fop will do that for me._ He thought to himself.

"Christine, I-" he tried to explain, but was immediately cut off by Christine's angered cries.

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? LOCKING ME IN THERE LIKE SOME CHILD AGAINST MY WILL? YOU TRIED TO KILL HIM!" Erik finally understood that Christine was hardly paying any mind to him, she was speaking to her fiancé_. More like ex-fiancé._ He tried his best to keep a smirk from crawling across his face, because he knew the vicomte could get violent with her. With this thought, Erik suddenly felt himself filling with rage.

"What have you done to her?" he hissed loudly, pushing the vicomte against the wall. This time, he was the one to give a glare of pure hatred. Raoul shook with fear.

"N-n-nothing I SWEAR!" he shrieked.

"Don't lie to me, boy! Tell the truth you worthless piece of-"

"No angel! Please!" Erik had almost forgotten Christine was there. Like an obedient dog, he immediately backed off, leaving Raoul in a state of confused shock. But this didn't last very long. Raoul ran towards Christine and pushed her against the ground, leaving her unconscious form heaped in a pile on the cold, stone floor.

In a state of uncontrollable anger and rage, he ran towards the man who had hurt the woman he loved. "TONIGHT, YOU DIE VICOMTE!" he picked up a candlestick and began swinging, each time hitting the fop with a sickening crack. His mask fell off, but he was too overcome by his emotions to even think about that at the moment. After about ten minutes, the vicomte lay in a bloody pile.

After replacing his mask, Erik returned to Christine, gathering her in his arms and placing her in the swan bed. How peaceful she looked. _I imagine this is the first worthwhile sleep she's gotten in a while_, he thought. A genuine smile spread across his face as he stood there and watched her for what seemed like a lifetime.

His grin soon faded when his thoughts returned to the vicomte, whose body was completely still. When Erik lifted his wrist and felt no pulse, he was not sure whether to jump for joy or to sulk around the lair. _Another dead_, he said to himself, _but it was for a good cause. She needs to be free of all monsters, even if that includes me. _

After ridding of the body, Erik turned into an unknown corridor and glided into a room only he had seen before. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a few stationary items. His quill touched the parchment, and the words poured from his soul into the note.


	10. Chapter 10: A Note, A Rose, A Kiss

**Chapter 10: A Letter, a Rose, a Kiss **

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it…ooh doncha just LOVE the title of this chapter? Kinda gives away a lot though…doesn't it? As I'm writing this author's note I have yet to write the chapter, so maybe I can change it around a little so it isn't so obvious of whats gonna happens… no, I doubt it. I've really been meaning to write some good e/c romance…(like I said on PFN: "oh god, only 13 and already a hopeless romantic" its true)ok here goes:**

_Angel,_

_I do not know how much you recall from last evening's events, and I am not sure you would want to recall all of them. I shall tell you, however, that the Vicomte is dead. If you would like to know what happened after you became unconscious, I will of course tell you._

_I am off doing some errands, and will be back by noon. In the meantime, get dressed -there is a dress in the armoire for you- and have some breakfast. Please stay here until I return, for I would like to say a formal goodbye to you._

_Until then,_

_Erik_

Christine reread the note until she had it memorized. But, no matter how many times she reread it, she still had so many questions buzzing about her. _Why is Raoul dead? A goodbye? Why am I here? Did He kill Raoul? Why was I unconscious?_ She wasn't even sure she wanted to know the answers, for fear of them being far too grim. She frowned, looking down at the rosein her hands. She didn't want Raoul to be dead, she didn't want to have to say goodbye to her angel-or Erik, as he called himself.

She once again began twirling the black ribbon between her fingers, repeating the name to herself.

_Erik_

_Erik_

_Erik _

She couldn't help but think of what a beautiful name Erik was. _For a beautiful man_, she told herself. She faced the armoire and opened it. Among a few cloaks and suits, her eyes fell upon a beautiful light blue dress. It had layers of lace and silk all around it, and a small trail. _What an artist he is_, she thought to herself. There was no way anyone else throughout all of Paris could have made a more beautiful dress. She carefully removed it from its hanger and placed it up against her body. Looking in the mirror, she saw that her hair was matted and she had a cut on her shoulder, but her thoughts faded away from such ghastly things as she saw herself with that dress. _Amazing_, she thought, _just amazing_.

Anxiously, she changed into her dress, and glanced at the grandfather clock. 11:25. She stood there for a while gazing at the piece of fine workmanship. _He probably built this too. _

After cleaning herself up, Christine carefully stepped into the dining room and saw the table was layered with fresh fruit, croissants, and other pastries. Picking up an apple, she bit into the sweetness. Since she had been with the Vicomte, all they had ever eaten was rich, exotic food. It was very good, but she often longed for the familiar, simple foods of her childhood. In fact, Christine couldn't remember ever eating just an apple at their estate. As she was just finishing her last bite, Erik walked in.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

He was a bit distraught and tired. She put on her best smile. "It's beautiful, Erik" she said, fingering a piece of lace on her dress. "For a beautiful girl." He replied, but he said this in an odd monotone, and without feeling.

Alas, he could no longer hold in his feelings and he burst out in tears. "Christine, I'm so sorry, so sorry…" he cried.

"Angel…what happened…last night?" she asked unsurely. This was not what he wanted to have to tell her, but he had promised her in his note that he would tell Christine of the events that followed Raoul's appearance in his lair if she had wanted to know. Wiping the salty tears from his face, he began to explain his story. By the time he had finished, Christine was sobbing aloud. "Christine, I'm so sorry, so very sorry." He said, pleading for her forgiveness.

"You should not be sorry…I am thanking you for what you did last night, Angel. As much as it hurts to know that Raoul is dead, I know it was for the best. Without you, I would be in the hands of a monster." She explained.

"But, Christine, you are in the hands of a monster right now. And that is why…I must say goodbye to you." Those words of his cut through him painfully. He hated to upset Christine, _but it's for her own sake, _he said.

"You are no monster, Erik. You are more of a man than even the most self-respecting man could ever consider himself; and that is why I love you." With those words spoken she ran up to him and kissed on the lips.

Euphoria sprung through Erik. This kiss was full of love, not pity; this kiss was different than the only other one he had ever received. He wrapped her in his embrace, and though they had ceased kissing long ago, he held her in his arms for an eternity, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go she would leave him as she had 4 weeks ago.

_Say you'll share with me _

_One love,_

_One lifetime,_

_Lead me, save me from my solitude._

_Say you'll want me with you here, _

_Besides you._

She continued his song, leaving Erik speechless that she had really meant what she said.

_Anywhere you go, _

_Let me go to,_

_Erik,_

_That's all I ask-"_

She was interrupted by Erik's lips, pressing romantically against hers. Almost in a trance-like state, she whispered so softly that she wasn't even sure he had heard her. "_-of you_." This was true bliss.


	11. Chapter 11: I Will Return

**Chapter 11: I Will Return…. **

**A/N I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it. Ahww… E/C feel the love **

"We must bring you back. Now." Erik forced himself to release her from his firm, but gentle grasp. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary that she return to the world where she belonged, the world in which the sun beckons all who are granted by beauty. He, however, could not join all of the beauty, he didn't belong. He must burn in hell, forever living under this Opera House in solitude.

"But what if I don't want to go?" Christine just giggled at the look on his face. Their kiss had apparently sent her into a state of almost dangerous euphoria, quite resembling drunkenness.

Erik frowned. "Christine, this is no joke. Your fiancé is dead, and you have disappeared? No, that will not do, and soon those damned police will come back to my home, thinking I have held you captive. You must stay above ground, at least until his funeral." Christine didn't want to think of such grim thoughts, but she knew she couldn't just disappear into thin air; it would be too dangerous, for her and Erik.

"What am I to tell them?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"Erik, my fiancé is dead and you just expect me to tell the whole world my Angel of Music killed him in order to save me? Personally I don't think that's the best idea." She immediately regretted her words, seeing Erik's fury build up in his eyes. "I'm sorry." She apologized kindly, and his face went back to the loving features she recognized. "He fell off of his horse."

"Hmm?" Erik had been deep in thought for that moment of silence.

"Raoul de Changy died when he fell off of his horse." She looked down, not knowing what his reaction was to be.

Erik simply lifted her head up to face his and said warmly and mockingly. "My innocent Christine, I didn't know you had a dark side." She smiled, "I must be leaving." He beckoned her towards the gondola.

As she stepped towards her mirror, she looked up to him "In 3 days I will return; only briefly though. Then I will once again leave, and after the funeral is over, I shall return to you."

He smiled. "Three days, Mademoiselle Daae; I shall be waiting for you." Christine stepped through the mirror into her familiar dressing room. She turned to get one last look, but he had already disappeared into his world on unending night.


	12. Chapter 12: True Beauty

**Chapter 12: True Beauty**

**_A/N_ I don't own Phantom or anything retaining to it…but the story's mine. So, we left Christine in her dressing room after she and Erik had decided for her to return to the world of light briefly in order to plan and attend Raoul's funeral ( he died in chapter 9 in case you somehow forgot)….**

As Christine headed out of the Opera House, she found a taxi carriage and climbed in. The interior; ripped and worn from years of service, looked nothing like Raoul's new carriage he had recently bought, with its spotless, red velvet interior. Her thoughts were interrupted by the gravelly voice of the driver.

"Where to Miss?" It took a minute for Christine to actually remember where she was going.

"Poisson Brothers, please." She said, handing him a few francs.

"As you wish mademoiselle." He said as he swished the whip on the horses' backs and they began trotting merrily. The carriage finally came to a halt stopping in front of a small building.

Christine thanked the driver and stepped out of the carriage. She had come here in order to have Raoul's tombstone carved and engraved. She wore a black dress, though she wasn't exactly in mourning. She was disappointed to lose the man who had been like a brother to her, but she rejoiced at the fact that she was no longer in the arms of a dangerous man.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Erik turned abruptly from Christine, knowing that if he even dared look at her for one more moment, he would only find it harder to let her go. _Deal with it_, he told himself, _she'll be back in three days_. He sat down at the organ and began composing. Unlike most of his recent songs, this one wasn't lowly and depressing, or angered; it was slow and romantic, and it reminded him of the song he had serenaded Christine with the first time he had brought her down into his home. He continued playing for what seemed like days, his music taking control over his mind. When he finally seemed to regain consciousness, Erik looked over at the grandfather clock and saw that he had been at the organ for 13 hours. Looking down at his callused finger, he scowled. He must learn to keep control of himself while he played, but that seemed to be impossible for him. Every time his fingers touched the white keys, he was sent into a world of oblivion; a world of sweet, dark music. After that, Erik seemed to do nothing but watch the hours pass, waiting for Christine to return to him. At last, it was Thursday, and at any moment, Christine would be back in his arms. Erik climbed into the gondola and waited for Christine behind her dressing room mirror.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

By the time notices had been sent out, the headstone carved, and the dates made; Christine had a headache the size of France. She was just glad it was finally Thursday, and that she could return to Erik-though only briefly. Doing her best to avoid being seen, she kept to the shadows. She wandered into her old dressing room and felt the cool glass against her fingertips. Erik had long ago explained how simply her mirror worked, so she began pressing her hands harder into the glass and trying to push it to the side, but it was harder than it looked. She almost screamed when she heard a voice.

"Having trouble mademoiselle?" The mirror then slid to the side, revealing a smirking Erik.

Instead of greeting him with a playful slap on the arm, Christine collapsed into his arms. She heard him trying his best to comfort her as she felt tears in her eyes. She hadn't shown any emotion until right here at this moment. When she finally wiped her eyes, and looked up at him, he returned her glance with a look of sympathy.

"Come," he said gesturing to the stone corridors "I'll make you some tea."

The tea had been rich and warm. After finishing, Christine had felt a lot less stressful. "Thank you." She shyly kissed him on his unmasked cheek and headed for the chair; she was very tired and needed to sit down. But then she turned around to face Erik and began walking towards him. She ran her hand down the cool, white mask. "May I?" she had asked, but it hadn't been much of a question, more of a pleading attempt.

"Christine please-" He hated having his face shown, like he was still in a cage making money off of his looks, or lack thereof.

"Angel, you have nothing to hide…" she said, looking warmly up at him "I have seen your face before. I am not young and ignorant as I once was; I am not afraid." And with that she slid her fingers along the edge of his mask and lifted it from his scarred face.

"Christine!" He roared in horror. "Why?"

"Because I love you." She tried to kiss him, but he turned from her.

_Stranger than you dreamt it; can you even dare to look? Or bear to think of me?_

_This face holds no horror to me now!_

_This loathsome gargoyle who burns in hell_

_You are an angel of heaven!_

_But secretly yearns for heaven… _

Christine couldn't stand to hear such evil words about her Angel; and emerging from his own lips! She began to sing.

_Fear has turned to love._

_I've learned to see to find a man,_

_And not a monster._

_This beautiful angel, _

_Who call himself a beast,_

_But is a beauty…_

_Is a beauty… _

With that, she ran towards him, and before he could even think to turn, she kissed him on the lips; a kiss full of passion and understanding. She loved him. It would take time for him to truly understand that, but it was what she would work on. One day he would be willing to accept that he was loved his own sake. Until then, she would spend every waking moment she had with him trying to make him understand every feeling she had for him. From the compassion she felt when he was upset, to the tingling rush she felt take over her body right now.


	13. Chapter 13: All I Ask of You

**Chapter 13: All I Ask of You**

**A/n: don't u know what I am going to say-don't you? Fking disclaimer grumbles. I don't own POTO or anything retaining to It.pouts anyway, so we left off with Erik being unmasked and kissed by Christine…**

When she finally retracted her lips from his, he was shaking, no, trembling. What Christine had done had left him in a complete state of shock. She looked lovingly upon him with her chocolate eyes and whispered, "I love you, Erik. I never stopped loving you." He took in a few shallow breaths and tried to turn away from her, but Christine tightened her grasp over his arms. Her voice, still in a quiet whisper that made even Erik strain to hear each word. "That night, when I first kissed you…I planned on staying. Not just to save Raoul, but something in my heart told me I couldn't leave you. I kept feeling that for some strange reason, I was actually upset that you had freed us. I wanted to stay. I hadn't known it just then, but I _wanted_ to stay. Now I know, and I'm not letting go." She kissed him gently, letting that rushing sensation take control over both of their bodies once more.

"Christine I-" Erik croaked, choking back tears. Never before had he truly believed Christine loved him; all of him. But now, as she was gently caressing the distorted flesh, he felt worthwhile for once in his life; he mattered to someone. As he tried to speak the words that wouldn't come out she held up a finger against his lips. "There is no need for explanation, Angel."

_Love me, that's all I ask of you. _

She looked into the twin pools of green that were Erik's eyes. She noticed that depending on the light, his eyes were always a different color or shade. She really enjoyed the blues and greens, and the occasional gold that glimmered through them like a dancing candle flame. When she noticed Erik had caught sight of her observing, she turned a shade of pink.

Christine knew this was where she belonged; with him. She was startled from her deep thought by Erik's soothing voice. "Mademoiselle, would you grant me the delight of another singing lesson?" He smiled down at her.

"Missuer Phantom, it would be my honor." She curtsied playfully and took his hand as he led her to the organ.

All day they worked on multiple arias, all from different plays. Many were from his _Don Juan Triumphant_, but they also practiced on songs from _Hannibal_, _Faust_, and _Il Muto. _

The lesson ended around 8, when Erik sent her to the swan bed, so she could rest. It seemed as soon as her body touched the red silk sheets, Christine fell in to a deep sleep. He watched her for a while as she peacefully slept before retiring to an arm chair and dreaming of all the sweet romance that had occurred between them that night.

'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The next morning, Christine had left quite early, quickly saying goodbye to Erik before their love became too close to intoxicating that she wouldn't have the will power to leave for the funeral. She promised to be back soon; probably the next day.

The funeral had been quite large, with every person the Vicomte had ever known, attending. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, except for her run-in with Philippe Comte de Changy; Raoul's brother. Christine had met him several times when she was much younger, but hadn't seen him since then. He seemed to have aged horribly, either that, or the news of his brother's death had badly affected him.

She remembered him walking up to her and asking if she knew anything of the monster. Christine had been about to argue that Erik was not a monster, but a man; but she knew it would not make sense to say so, since as far as everyone else knew she had been happily engaged to Raoul until his accidental death. She denied any contact with the Phantom, but instead of being greeted by a reassured glance, Philippe glared at her and whispered hatefully so that only she could hear, "Raoul told me things, Mademoiselle Daae. You were with that thing, leaving my brother alone. I doubt that his death was accidental. You and your new fiancé probably planned Raoul's death right under his nose. Mark my words, Christine Daae; I will have revenge on you _and_ your monster." He had stormed off angrily, muttering something about mirrors.

However, Christine knew that no matter how much anger filled the count, he would never be able to catch Erik. There were so many things even she didn't understand about him.

Madame Giry had often described Erik as, though only a man ( She had wanted it clear to Christine that Erik was no angel.), was a genius and a magician. She remembered her "mother" telling her something the night after Erik had first brought her into his lair_. Christine, this man that you…love, he is a man of the unexpected. Though only a man, you can never expect anything, no matter how many times you've checked your plan to be perfect. Do not close a door on him and expect it to never open again…Do not kiss him and expect to be kissed back…you have been warned child, even I do not know all the secrets that lie inside his soul. _And with that, she had placed a kiss on her cheek and walked away.

When she reached her mirror she found an envelope with a red letter seal on it. _Erik_, she thought to herself. But, unlike the common skull that he often placed on the notes to managers and such, this one was different. It was in the shape of a rose, but what really amazed her was that the stem was shaped to look like a letter "C". _What a lucky girl I am. _She carefully opened the letter, trying her best to avoid damaging the seal.

Angel,

I am sorry to say that I will not be joining you this afternoon. However, be free to make yourself comfortable until I return. I have fixed the mirror in order to make it easier for you to maneuver through.

Erik

Christine smiled to herself and, with the letter in hand, walked towards the mirror. She found Erik had made it much easier to slide across. She stepped down the familiar tunnels she had now memorized and finally reached the lake. She stepped in the gondola and began to push off. It turned out to be a lot harder than it looked. She put out her foot to step out, but fell onto the rocks of the shallow bank of the lake, gasping from pain.

With all the strength she could manage, she looked down at her stinging leg. It was a lot worse than she had expected, with a few large, deep gashes in her thigh and a bleeding ankle. "Angel, please! Help me!" She tried to scream, but she could barely manage a whisper. Christine lay there on the shore as the icy cold water washed on to her wounds, praying that Erik could come in time to save her. "Please…" she repeated her plea. After that the world around her began to spin, and everything went black.


	14. Chapter 14: With All Love Comes Tragedy

**Chapter 14: With All Love Comes Tragedy**

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it. Ok so in ch.13 Christine badly hurt her leg with wounds that could be fatal if Erik should not reach her in time…**

Erik looked down at all of the sparkling diamonds, trying to pick the right one. He wanted to find one that was perfect, as perfect as she was. His eyes fell upon one that sparkled every tone of blue imaginable. This was it, this was the one.

"How much for that one Monsieur?" He questioned, pointing down at the one that had caught his attention. The tubby shop keeper seemed to squirm under Erik's presence; obviously frightened by his mask and powerful voice.

"Oh! Erm…that one? Its…1 million francs…" He nervously wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead.

That diamond would cost him more than four years of his salary-but it was worth it; _she_ was worth it. "Fine. Then I shall pick it up tomorrow."

Leonard couldn't believe what he had just heard. Someone was actually going to buy this amazing diamond. Who in the world could be willing to spend so much money on one person? Well, whoever this masked man was, he was in love. Without thinking he blurted out "She is a special one, eh?" Erik at first seemed to tense, but when he realized what he had been asked, he couldn't hold back a smile.

"Extraordinary." And with that, he left the small shop and headed out, praying he would get the answer he wanted so badly.

Suddenly he got a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong…with her. He ran down the streets so fast he appeared to be nothing but a blur to bystanders.

When he finally reached the lake, he could barely breathe from all of the running, but there was no way he could stop. He had to be sure Christine was alright. When he was about to step out of the gondola, his fears became realities. There was Christine, piled in a heap, her leg terribly scarred up. He ran out of the gondola in to the frigid waters nearing closer to her. _No, no…please NO! _She wasn't moving. Erik anxiously checked her pulse. It was there, but very weak. Quickly he picked up her limp body from the jagged rocks. He did what he could for her leg, though it wasn't much. He couldn't just leave her there alone while he went to get supplies. Then he remembered talking to Madame Giry recently. Firmin and Andre had reluctantly agreed to resume paying him his salary, and Antoinette was expected to drop it off some time today. Knowing that she was never to break a promise, he knew to expect her presence soon.

He laid her on the bed and pulled up a chair next to her, not even daring blink, for he might miss some kind of sign of recovery. After about three hours, the elderly ballet mistress appeared at the gate.

"It is good to see you E-" she was cut off by Erik's harsh tone, but underneath it he sounded very scared.

"Antoinette, it's Christine! Something horrible has happened she won't wake up her leg is badly damaged. Please…we must do something!"

Madame Giry held her hand up to her mouth as she looked upon such a sad sight. Erik, with tears rolling down his face; and Christine, barely alive. He looked upon his old friend with pleading eyes. "Please…"

"Get some water-now." She said urgently. Erik seemed to obey every little task she asked of him that night. He had never been like that before. Where Christine was concerned, everything changed. He would do anything for her.

When it seemed she had done all that was possible for that night, she bid Erik goodbye and told him she'd be back in the morning. She also added that he should get some sleep, but she knew he never would; not with Christine in such a grave situation.

The next day, Madame Giry returned to find Erik almost jumping for joy.

"Madame! She is awake!" He beamed down at Christine, who seemed to be making a quick recovery. "I am afraid she is too weak to stand or sit up, but she is awake! Can you believe it?" Antoinette couldn't help but laugh at Erik's euphoria. "It is a miracle, Erik."

**A/N I think eriks gone a bit ummm PSYCHO? No worries he'll be bac to normal when tragedy once again strikes DUNDUNDUN!**


	15. Chapter 15: This Can't Be the End

**Chapter 15: This Can't Be the End**

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything that retains to it…story is mine…you already know this. Okay, so we leave with Christine recovering and Erik looking a lot like Tom Cruise jumping up and down on Oprah's sofa on that one episode…**

Christine's good health soon faded. It seemed that every day she grew sicker, until she could barely open her eyes. Erik was now very worried about her. He had yet to propose to her, and her condition just seemed to be getting worse and worse. Madame Giry suggested she be taken to a doctor. Erik knew he couldn't go, and was reluctant to leave her completely under Madame Giry's care, but he knew it was for the best.

It had been two weeks since he had last seen Christine, but Madame Giry stopped by daily to inform him of Christine's situation. Apparently the doctor hadn't been able to help her. She was only slowly wasting away. This time when the old ballet instructor returned to his home, she had a very sad expression on her face, and her eyes were red from previous tears.

"What is it?" he asked nervously, afraid of her answer.

"I…I spoke to the doctor today…Erik….She's not getting any better…She's….."

Erik grew very impatient. What was wrong with Christine? "Well?"

"She's going to die Erik…there's no hope left for her."

Erik felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. He felt himself growing paler, the tears welling in his eyes, the pain of a breaking heart. "No, no, no, no…!" He fell to the ground, sobbing. It was his entire fault. If he had been with her she never would have fallen and they would be together right now.

Madame Giry looked upon the man crying before her, causing her to once again shed tears. Not just for the loss of Christine, but for the effect it would have on the man she had thought of as a brother. "Erik…"

"Leave. Now."

She made to protest. He couldn't be alone at a time like this. "Erik,"

"Go."

She knew there was no use in arguing any further. Before she left she added, "I'm bringing her back here. I think that's where she belongs." She walked away, once again feeling the salty tears on her lips.

The next day, Christine was brought from the hospital into Erik's home. She continued to rest in the swan bed. Her condition slowly worsened, and Erik had started to truly believe that Christine may truly die any day. This gave him the courage he needed.

One night, Erik slipped the small box into his pocket and sat besides the swan bed. "Christine?"

"I'm dieing Erik, aren't I? I'm not getting any better. It's all my fault now you're going to be all alone. You don't deserve this…"

"Hush, Christine. Never trouble yourself with such sad thoughts. You will be better; I promise."

"You're lieing to me-I know it Erik…You know I am going to die, just as much as I do."

"Christine, if you were to die, I would have never done this." And, with a swift movement of his hand he pulled out the box and put it in front of her, so she would not have to strain her neck to look. "Christine, will you marry me?" He opened the box, revealing the beautiful ring and its many tones of blue.

"Erik…Erik…" She closed her eyes gently.

"Christine?" He drew his hand to wrist. No pulse. She was dead.


	16. Chapter 16: There Must Be an Angel

**Chapter 16: There Must Be an Angel Watching Over Us**

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it…ok so Christine died when Erik proposed…before she could even say yes.**

Her wrist became limp in his grip. "No! Christine! Why? Why?" Tears poured down his face, soaking both of their clothing. There shy lay; unmarried, not a mother, this was not how it was supposed to happen! "Oh, Christine." He rested his head in her soft brown curls, where her perfume still lingered.

"_Yes_"

He pulled his head up to look at her. There she was-alive! "Oh thank god!" He wrapped her in his embrace. "Yes" she repeated. Her eyes were still closed, but he could feel her soft breathing on his neck.

"What?" He rationalized she was probably just dreaming.

"Yes, I want to marry you."


	17. Chapter 17: Love Transcends All Barriers

**Chapter 17: Love Transcends all Barriers, and Heals all Wounds**

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it…except for my own story-duh…ok Yay I know u guys were happy when I brought Christine back to life. Actually I had been planning it all along. I'm an e/c addict as you should already know. I don't have the will power to kill her off-not in my own phic. And now Microsoft is saying "phic" isn't a word and that makes me very angry so im adding it to my dictionary does clicky things on computer until word "phic" is added to personal dictionary ok so here's chapter 16:**

It has been said often the love transcends all barriers and heals all wounds, but never had Christine or Erik truly taken it into thought. Now it seemed to be their one true belief. After Erik had slipped that beautiful ring on to Christine's shaking finger, she had started to heal immediately. Within two weeks she was in walking condition, and couldn't have been happier.

Often she would leave her new home to visit Meg or Madame Giry, and occasionally she would join them for tea at their favorite café. But her favorite times were spent with Erik. Often he would give her a singing lesson, but most of the time they simply enjoyed their time together as an engaged couple.

Christine often found herself wondering if she and Erik would ever marry. It might never be possible, as her fiancé was a wanted man. How would they ever find a priest willing to give them his blessing?

God never turned down any man, but was this the same as a priest? Surely they would be able to find one with such accepting morals. With that behind her, she crept up behind Erik, who was composing at the organ.

He saw her, but he decided to give her the joy of the idea that she had truly fooled him. He continued playing, but watched her from the corner of his eye as she drew closer. She came so close that he could feel her breath on him. Just before she could open her mouth to compliment his work, he turned around.

"Boo!" She screamed and fell into his arms.

"God, Erik, you scared me." She said, laughing. She should have known better than to think she could trick him. He placed a kiss on her forehead in silent apology.

"He told me to go back, you know." She said in an airy voice.

"Hmm?"

"My father. When I was still with Raoul all I ever did was think of you and how different it could have been." Christine was now comfortable enough with Erik to say Raoul's name around him. Erik smiled at the thought that she too had thought of what it might have been like if she had stayed.

"Continue, please my dear."

She sat down besides him on the settee and rested her head on his shoulder. "Ah, well, Raoul knew I was thinking about you and he confronted me about it. I wanted to love him and not you. It seemed like the most…convenient thing at the time. Besides, I had already made my choice. I told him I loved him and only him, but I knew that was a lie. There I was trying to persuade myself to stop loving you, when I heard a voice. At first I thought it was you, or maybe Raoul. But that voice belonged to my father." She took a breath as tears welled in her eyes at the thought of her father. "The voice told me to stay with whomever my heart truly belonged; and I knew that was you. That's when I went back to the opera."

Erik's smile faded. He had been so mean to her that following day, when she had truly believed he was the one for her.

"What's wrong Angel?"

"It's just…I was so cruel to you that day. I hollered at you until you left the room in tears. I really am a monster…"

"No, you are an angel; a godsend. I don't know what I'd do without you. We both did wrongs to each other. I betrayed you multiple times, but after all of that, you still love me."

"That's different."

"No. It's not. What we have done to each other is in the past" She removed his mask and kissed him. "Please don't ever wear this again; at least when I'm the only one with you."

"Christine…" he groaned in argument.

"I won't ever kiss you when you have the mask on." He raised his eyebrow, questioning her statement.

"Oh, fine. But I shall wear it when we have guests."

"Fine." She placed a kiss on his cheek and walked away contently to find the book she had been reading.

As Erik went back to composing, his thoughts shifted to the wedding. Quite a few things had been troubling him about it. How would they ever find a priest? And what would Christine's last name be? He was sure he had a last name, but he had never been told it. All his life he had known himself simply as Erik, and even that name had not been granted to him by his parents, but on accident. Would Christine keep her maiden name? Or rid herself of any last name at all? What if he became Erik Daae? No, that would not work. He thought long and hard about this before giving up and returning his thoughts to his music.


	18. Chapter 18: You Will Curse The Day

**Chapter 18: You Will Curse the Day **

**A/n I don't own POTO or anything retaining to it. Ok, so Christine and Erik are pretty much happily engaged. Let's see if I can change that… **

Philippe felt the golden liquid scorch his throat down to his gut. Each sip at first burning, but later numbing the pain. His brother was dead, and it was all _her_ fault. He had been a Vicomte, and had deserved a woman much better than a no good chorus girl whore. His grip on the glass tightened as his anger increased. It shattered; and in response, so had his life. The world around him began to sway as his drunkenness finally got a hold of him. The darkness slowly took a grasp on him, but before he lost consciousness, he promised that he would get his brother the revenge he deserved.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""'

The Count awoke about 7 hours later, and immediately remembered his promise. He stood quickly, but fell over, succumbing to his hangover. Once the world stopped spinning, he lifted himself up and seated himself in a nearby armchair.

The rest of that day he suffered from dizziness, nausea, and worst of all, the need to kill.


	19. Chapter 19: Dark Waltz

**Chapter 19: Dark Waltz**

**A/n I don't own POTO. Now, to the point. The song in here is based on "Dark Waltz" sung by Hayley Westenra. In case you have yet to hear the song, I suggest you find it online. It's a great song that reminds me of Phantom for one reason or another. **

Erik had finally finished composing it. He titled his new work "Dark Waltz". He had written it using his organ, though it was meant for the violin. Christine once again approached him, but this time he turned round, not bothering to tease her.

She looked over his shoulder and read the notes, the beautiful music playing in her mind. "Would you play it for me?"

"I would love to, but it is written for the violin, dear, and I do not own such an instrument."

Christine's smile faded. She was disappointed that she may never hear this music, but also that Erik, the composer, never would either. Then she remembered something. That glorious smile Erik loved so much played once again upon her lips.

"Would you please take me to my mirror, Erik?"

"Surely, but for what?" He looked at her, puzzled at why she would suddenly want to leave. She gave him a playful smile.

"Oh, you'll see." He once again beckoned her towards the gondola. After a few minutes of rowing and walking, they finally arrived at the entrance to Christine's former dressing room. "Wait here." She stepped out of passage way and returned to her familiar dressing room. If she closed her eyes she could still remember her first meeting with Erik.

After about 5 minutes, Christine returned carrying a black case. "What's in the case, dear?" She teased him with another playful smile.

"Be patient." Was all she said. When they returned, Christine laid the case on a table and opened it to reveal a violin. Its finish was worn from years of usage, but seemed to be kept in rather good shape. "It was my fathers", she said, stroking the strings with her delicate fingers. "I suppose it will take some time to tune, but I want you to have it."

Erik frowned. "Christine, I cannot just simply take your last memory of your father away and drown it in my own."

"Erik, I will never play it. I never wanted to. But you…you enjoy the violin and I know it would give you great pleasure to be able to play it. Besides, I like the idea of having a memory of both you and my father…together, in a way." She looked up with pleading eyes. Christine was smart, but also stubborn, and she knew Erik wouldn't be able to resist her when she looked upon him with such a meaningful look. Often when she had been younger, she had used that face to continue her lessons for just 10 more minutes, and he had never refused.

He sighed. "Are you sure this is what you want Christine?" he asked, and though he wanted to refuse, there was a tinge of hope in his voice that she might actually still like him to play it for her.

"Positive."

"Fine then. I'll spend the rest of the day fixing it up, so why don't you go and spend some time with Megan?"

She beamed at him. "Oh thank you, Erik! I'll be back later then?" But Erik was already too busy studying the violin to notice her words. She placed a kiss on his cheek and hurried off to the ballet dormitories.


	20. Chapter 20: 3 Special Words

**Chapter 20: Those Three Special Words**

**A/n I don't own POTO. So, let's see…Erik's fixing the violin…Christine's having some girl talk with Meg…and what happened to the drunken and murderous Comte? Oh, and _Forza del Destino_ is a real opera written by Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi in the late nineteenth century.**

**And, in celebration of 20 chapters; **

**Thanks You's:**

**Mouse: Thanks so much for your reviews. Never have you missed one chapter!**

**Loup-Garou: Thanks so much. I'm flattered that you think so highly of my story!**

**MyDarkAngelErik: Your reviews are so funny. I'm glad to have you on board as one of my trusted reviewers**

**Saloma-Kiwi: Thanks so much. I know it's been a while since I've updated, but I promise that the next chappie will be worth the wait!**

**MegumiSekura: Thanks for the reviews! I hope to see "V for Vendetta" soon.**

**LoveTheScottichAngel: glad to see someone loves Gerry as much as I do. See ya at PFN!**

**And that's just to name a few! Thanks to all my other reviewers! And now for the show…(P.S Erik has the same hair when unmasked as 2004 Movie Erik does. No, he isn't bald. He just has some thinning problems on the deformed side of his face. Oh, and he doesn't wear the mask around Christine in case you forgot.)**

The moment she entered the room, Christine was immediately badgered with questions by her curious friend.

"Oh, Christine! What is it like? Living with him? His face, is it as bad as they say? Is he a monster? Do you love him? When are you going to get married? Does he want children? Is he a good singer? Does-"

"Meg, please. I will answer all of your questions, I promise. Just let me speak first." Christine spoke calmly, hoping that it would have a relaxing effect on her friend. Meg blushed a bright red, embarrassed from her juvenile behavior and having to be talked down to like a child.

"I'm sorry. It's just so….amazing! You, Christine Daae, married to the infamous Opera Ghost? Oh, well do tell all Christine! I want to hear every detail."

"We're not married yet, Meg."

"Oh, but you will be."

She flashed a smile. The idea of marriage with Erik was the most amazing thing she could ever imagine. Never had she ever dreamed she would be marrying her Angel of Music.

Christine then explained to her everything she had been holding in since her last meeting with Meg, when she had shown her the engagement ring Erik had given her. She was sure to leave out no detail, big or small, knowing that if Meg didn't get what she wanted she would continue to pry. Christine described how sweet he was, though he still did have a nasty temper occasionally, causing her "sister's" eyes to grow wide; she explained the romantic and touching story of his proposal, bringing tears to Meg's baby blues.

"I'm so happy for you!" She exclaimed, wrapping Christine in a tight hug. "Oh, and guess what? Jean has asked me to the Masque Ball!" Jean was Meg's new love interest. Christine could hardly believe a year had past since the last masquerade. The Opera Populaire had thrown these parties on New Year's Eve since it had been built. She shuddered at the memory of the previous one. Erik had made a surprise visit, introducing his _Don Juan Triumphant_, and making it clear to herself that she could not be with Raoul.

"_Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!"_

He had been so heartless and cold, his eyes not showing one bit of compassion that night. But he had changed. She knew it. She was not engaged to the man who had threatened her that night. She was engaged to a loving man who would give his life to spend just one more moment with her. Her deep thoughts were interrupted by Meg's shrill screaming.

"Christine! Can you hear me Christine! Christine!" Her eyes shone with tears.

"Oh, I'm sorry Meg. I was just…thinking. What were you saying?" Meg face still showed signs of worry.

"Are you sure you're alright? You just…wouldn't answer…and…" She was at a loss for words. A single tear trickled down her cheek.

"Meg, listen to me; I'm fine. I was just thinking. Now tell me about Jean." The girls talked for hours, and about everything. They chatted about the new clothing store that had opened downtown, and gossiped about Carlotta's new role in _Forza del Destino_.

When they had finally talked about everything that could pop in to their heads, Christine bid her friend goodbye, and walked down the deserted corridors to her familiar dressing room. She often wondered why it had never been reassigned. She laughed at the thought that Andre and Firmin had probably been too superstitious of another haunting to have it reoccupied. She stepped through the mirror, squinting through the darkness to make her way to the house on the lake.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

He had spent all day working on her father's precious violin. In that time spent on the instrument; he had removed the old finish, replaced the four strings, and completely redone the bow. Erik's hands were cramped and dampened with sweat from the hours of smoothing, plucking, and testing. He inspected his work with a look of pure triumph. Within a few days, it would be playing better than it had ever before.

Christine had yet to return, not that he had expected her to be back anytime before sundown. She had much to catch up on with her dear friend. He glanced over at the massive grandfather clock; 11 'o clock. Erik knew she would be back soon, for her curiosity was too strong to keep her wondering about his efforts on her father's violin. He waited thirty minutes for her return. Each time the clocked ticked another second, his eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Soon he could no longer resist his need for sleep. His recent restless nights had surely taken a toll on him. He walked over to the swan bed, dressed into some nightclothes, and fell into a gentle sleep.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Christine praised herself in making her way through the dark corridors without hurting herself, as she had done on the rocks months before. She entered the lit cavern. It was so beautiful with all of the candles burning in the eerie silence. Silence. Where was Erik?

"Erik?" she whispered. She shrugged, figuring he had already gone to bed. Her suspicions were confirmed when she found Erik deep in a peaceful sleep in the swan bed. She stopped to look at him. His features were no longer strained from constant frowning. He looked so content. She allowed her fingers to trace the contours of his naked face; from the base of his neck to his hairline.

Eventually, she found her way back to reality, losing the hypnotic grasp that Erik's chiseled face held upon her. Sleepily, she made her way back to her own room. She and Erik had never slept in the same bed. He had provided her with her own room, probably assuming that Christine's religion forbid her from such a manner before marriage. She thought about this for a bit, all the while looking lovingly at Erik's features.

If loving your future husband was a sin, let her be guilty! She slipped into bed next to Erik. It was such a sensation to feel his warmth surround her. Careful not to wake him, she got as close as she could to him until their bodies were touching. Feeling his steady breathing on her neck, she succumbed to the darkness. Just before she drifted off to sleep she whispered, _"I love you Erik"_.


	21. Chapter 21: Plans, Plots, and Memories

**Chapter 21: Plans, Plots, and Memories**

**A/N Don't own POTO…Leroux, ALW, and Kay do…blahblahblah.**

**Anywho: "Why so silent good messieurs?" sorry, watching the movie now. I am in need of a beta. Anyone care to do so for me? I would be your obedient servant! Sometimes, I find myself making stupid plot mistakes, so I need someone to help me with that. I am SO SORRY for not writing an update sooner. I've been thinking long and hard on the plot, I've just had a hard time deciding where I want it to go. So, I've finally figured it out (I think…)**

Erik woke from a peaceful sleep, wishing only to be able to fall back into his state of dream. Throughout the night, his mind had showed him a wonderful picture show of him and Christine, and an unbreakable romance.

_The best part is; it wasn't just a dream._

As he lay half awake, he felt a sense of content that he hadn't experienced in a long time, if ever. Immediately, he jolted upward as he felt something move beside him. His heart was racing as he looked over to find… a sleeping angel. He let out a sigh as the pounding in his chest subsided, and he sunk back into the crimson sheets. Christine was _here_; in _his_ bed; lying next to _him_. He smiled at the thought as he enclosed his arms around her, savoring the feel of his skin touching hers. He spent many minutes just staring at her; studying the way she would move in her sleep ever so slightly, watching the rise and fall of her chest, drinking in her scent…

Her eyelids fluttered, and then opened to reveal two brown orbs, clouded with sleep. He whispered into her ear "Good morning, _mon ange_." She turned around sleepily, in an attempt to face the owner of the entrancing voice before whispering, "Erik?" Her eyes were shut again. "Yes." He replied, "Who else were you expecting?" Her eyelids flashed open at the confirmation, her face flushing to a shade of pink. "Erik! Oh…I don't know what came over me…I'll just…" She made an attempt to get out of the bed, but in vain. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, silencing her attempts of an explanation. "It has been my honor, mademoiselle." She let out a sigh and rested her head on his chest, placing tiny kisses where his shirt was partially unbuttoned. His strong arms engulfed her, leaving her to drift in and out of sleep with a surge of euphoria coursing through her veins.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Philippe couldn't seem to remember the last time he had consumed such an obscene amount of alcohol. He had already emptied his small supply and sent his servants to town to get more. At the rare moments when he was sober enough to think straight, all he could think of was Christine Daae, and how she had murdered his only brother. He must get his revenge. He finally gave up his habit of taking in dangerous amounts of alcohol, and devoted all of his time to scheming up a way to ruin both Mlle. Daae's and the Monster's lives. He knew she was living with him -most likely as a mistress- somewhere. Could they really be that foolish to obtain residence under the Opera once more?

_Well, they were foolish enough to kill an aristocrat…_

With more speed than he had known humanly possible, he hurried out of the de Changy estate and into his personal carriage, ordering the driver to the Garnier Opera.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

After Christine had -reluctantly- removed herself from the swan bed, Erik rose and walked over to his project where he hoped to make much progress. Sitting down at the desk which normally contained his stationary, he picked up the violin and began replacing the old strings.

Christine spent most of the day reading, or watching her fiancée work. It seemed each time she glanced over, a day's worth of progress would be done in about a half hour. She was amazed at his determination to finish. Only once that day had he removed himself from the violin, taking a quick break, and then returning to the jumble of strings and wood.

She sighed contentedly and walked over to one of the caverns, which served as a small library. For a recluse, Erik had quite a collection of literature. Many of them were in foreign languages she didn't understand, as she only spoke French and Swedish fluently. Although she had grown up in France, her father had insisted she learn Swedish, in case they were to ever visit her relatives in Sweden. She hadn't heard that beautiful language since her father had passed away. His final words were, "när JAG er i himmel , barnen , Jag vill sända du ängeln av Musik." _When I am in heaven, child, I will send you the Angel of Music. _She wiped a tear from her eye as she continued to gaze upon the vast collection. She recognized most of the books to be in English. Perhaps, one day, Erik could teach her English, and she could be able to read one of these books. There was so just much he could teach her; show her…

**So, whatdya guys think? Please R&R! I don't even care if you flame me; I am open to everything! Oh, and do think about a role as my beta…Anyone who reviews gets a free English/Swedish dictionary, like the one I used for this story ;D and one of the violin string Erik is using to fix the violin holds up one of the strings**

**ERIK: grabs string out of hands give me that! How do you expect me to work without supplies? storms off**

**Correction: You just get the dictionary. **


	22. Chapter 22: Let the Dark Waltz Begin

**Chapter 22: Let the Dark Waltz Begin**

**_A/N_ Thanks to all of my reviewers! I don't know what I'd do without you all! And an extra-special thanks to Potosynthesis, my new beta! Right, and those dictionaries you all wanted…you see…they were invisible. Yeah, that's it. You actually do have them, you just can't see them…Right, now on to the story now, I'm not sure how much longer this phic will be. I mean, I've known them to get past 40 chapters, but I believe this one will come to a close sooner or later. After this, I'm starting a new phic where the Angel of Music really exists…but so does Erik. Probably will have a tragic ending, I'm not positive yet though… You'll get more info on it later. I'm not sure, but when I read this first section of the chapter Philippe almost reminds me of….Erik?**

The carriage arrived at the opera around noon, the embroidered de Changy symbol reflecting the mid-November sun. Philippe stepped out, muttering a word of thanks to the driver before walking through the double doors of the Populaire. Ordinarily, he would've stopped to admire the fine architecture and angelic art of the Grand Room, but today he had more important things to tend to.

Noticing his presence, a maid approached him. "Excuse me, Monsieur, but could I be of any help to you? I noticed you looked a bit lost…" Her features were worn from the hard work of her job, but he imagined she would've been a very pretty girl, had she been born into a wealthier family. Trying to ignore her odor, he replied, "Yes, I am looking for a…" he pulled a card out of his coat pocket, and upon reading the script, "M. Pierre Vonedeaux?"

The woman looked a bit surprised at his request. "Monsieur, are you sure; the stagehand? Surely someone from such elite aristocracy as yourself wouldn't…"

"I am not mistaken. I need to speak with Monsieur Vonedeaux." His icy tone told her he was very sure of whom he was speaking of. "Now, would you be so kind as to direct me to his whereabouts?"

"Y-y-yes, Monsieur. He is working on stage at the dress rehearsal." He began to walk off to the stage area, but turned around to face the maid before exiting the room. "Speak of this to no one." She bowed her head in understanding. He was sure she wouldn't tell someone, anyway. It was not proper for a simple maid to approach an aristocratic figure. Surely, she would receive a painful reprimanding, should anyone find out. He continued his journey to the stage, thinking,_ "This is too easy."_

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

The violin was finished. Christine marveled at the work of Erik's genius. As the young girl looked up towards her fiancé, tears slowly trickled down her cheeks. Erik wiped away her tears with his thumbs, and whispered, "Hush, mon amour. No more tears. We must put the past behind us…and begin to look at the future we have."

The hint of a smile played across her lips. "I know, love. I know." Erik gently placed the violin back on to the work table as he lowered his lips to hers, joining them in a tender kiss.

"Will you play it for me?" she asked gingerly. He looked at her quizzically.

"What would you like me to play, Cheri?" Christine slapped him on the wrist playfully. "Forgetful man! Have you already forgotten the purpose of the violin?" He smirked at Christine's false anger, and then he continued to pick up the violin. After placing a significant amount of rosin on the bow, he began to play the rich melody he had entitled _Dark Waltz_; the song Christine had been so fascinated with since she had first read the music. Each note sent shivers down her spine, still amazed by the sheer beauty of it.

The piece ended, and he replaced the violin to its rightful place in the case. "Do you-" But before he could finish his question of approval, Christine's lips met his in a euphoric kiss. She was proud of him, and she wasn't about to hide her feelings. After they had pulled apart, he grinned and added, "Perhaps I should play that piece more often?"

"Perhaps you should." She kissed him again, savoring every moment.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Philippe walked onto the stage arrogantly, ignoring the ballet dancers who were stumbling to keep time and yet still keep their curious eyes on him; wondering what could possibly be so important that he would interrupt rehearsal. His eyes quickly met those of an annoyed ballet mistress, who he knew as Madame Giry, the little Daae whore's adoptive mother.

He cleared his throat, signaling that he wanted the rehearsal stopped in order to speak with her. His measly attempt was in vain. The dancers seemed to stop for just a fraction of a second to see Giry's reaction, obviously praying that they would have just a moment of a break. "No!" She yelled. "You do not cease to dance until I permit it!" As she racked her cane against the wooden floors to the beat, the young girls quickly reformed their places. "Now," she said, resuming her composure, "If this young man finds he has the right to interrupt _my_ dress rehearsal, then now let it be known to him that he is to wait until the end."

Philippe made an attempt to speak up, but one hard gaze of the ballet mistress' told him he would just have to wait until she was finished with the stagehand in order to talk with him. This was going to take awhile.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Meg waited anxiously at her dorm. Her sprained ankle had allowed her to stay in her room, rather than go to practice. It also left plenty of time for Jean to sneak in and visit her, as her mother was busy with the other ballet girls. Jean was so amazing. His kisses were heavenly, and his blue eyes as mysterious as the sea. She wanted to spend each and every minute with him…and soon she would be able to. He had proposed to her-_proposed!_-, and of course she had agreed. He said he would return within an hour's time, and little Giry could hardly wait. As she sat on the bed, Meg daydreamed of her wedding. She saw her beautiful pearl colored dress that looked right out of a storybook; and Jean waiting at the altar, beaming….

"Meg!"

The young woman was snapped out of her trance as Christine's voice echoed through the small dormitory. She smiled "Oh, Christine! How are things...down there...with the Pha- Erik?"

Christine really did wish Meg would quit acting so unfriendly about hers and Erik's relationship. _He is a man, not a thing! _Her good friend had obviously let the rumors she had heard get to her. "Everything is just fine, Meg,", she replied, smiling, "but, please, try to understand that all of what you have heard from Jammes and the other ballet girls is not true. In fact, hardly any of it is."

The petite blonde frowned. She hated seeing that she had upset her best friend, but, oh God in Heaven, she was _engaged_ to a murderer! "Chrissy, do you ever worry about your safety? You cannot deny that he has murdered countless amounts of people! The man is insane! He could kill you, or mother, or...or...or..._anyone_ at this very minute!"

Christine seethed with anger. How dare she insult Erik, and herself, like that! "You have no right! No right to say such things about my fiance!"

The two girls who had been so close just 10 minutes ago had now let their friendship fester into enemy status. "Christine! Really! THINK ABOUT IT! Think! He's killed in front of our very eyes during _two_ operas! Who knows what he's done before you! I 'm only protecting you!"

"Well, the next time, _don't help me_!" Meg felt the sting of Christine's palm against her left cheek. The silence was interrupted only by her quiet sobbing and the loud sound of the slamming of a door.


End file.
